Tell A Thousand Lies (41 page)

The next few hours were excruciating. The stream of people was endless. The invisible band around my head tightened to the point I was afraid my head would burst. After the last devotee had left, I wearily found my way back to my private quarters. I waved away a few hopeful looking devotees; some days I had dinner with a select few, but today I was too agitated.

“What happened wasn’t good,” Ammamma said, sounding anxious. “First time back in the village in years, and see the stunt she pulls.”

I collapsed on the bed. “How could he do this to me? To have me meet my son in public, that too, without warning.”

Ammamma snorted. “You are a fool if you think Srikar had a say in this.”

The whole village had seen Lata with Srikar and Pullaiyya, establishing them as a family. No question of me trying to lay claim to my husband and son now.

“Ammamma,” I said, anxious. “Do you think people heard me when I spoke out loud during the
darsanam
?”

“Since Srikar and Lata were directly in front of you, I don’t think so. It was too noisy.”

“But the security guard and the priest did.”

“I can talk to the guard. But the priest...” Ammamma sighed. “Just be careful of that man. Anyway, right now, Lata is the bigger worry. I don’t know how something that evil could have come from the womb of a daughter of mine.”

“Pullamma!” Srikar stormed in.

I sat up, heart thundering. If he was here, my son couldn’t be far behind.

But it was just Srikar, dragging Lata along. He shoved her into a chair. “Pullamma, I am so sorry,” he said. “If I’d known she would pull something like this, I would never have agreed to come. I came only because she said that it was time you met Pullaiyya.”

“Where is my son?”

“You may have given birth to him,” Lata snarled, “but he is mine.”

“Lata!” Srikar shouted.

I’d never thought I would live to see Srikar lose control. His eyes were rimmed red, and the cords in his neck stood out. “You lied to me. You claimed it was time Pullaiyya got to know his mother.”

“I will never let Pullamma have him,” Lata said, eyes blazing. “Never.”

“Lata!” Srikar said.

“When you needed me, you used me. Now, when your precious Pullamma shows up, you're ready to throw me aside. How noble!”

Srikar threw a quick look at Ammamma, face reddening. “We’ll discuss this later. Let’s go.”

She gripped the sides of her chair. Srikar knelt by her chair and said something to her. She shook her head, her lips set in a stubborn line.

I watched them, feeling sharp envy for the intimacy their relationship allowed them.

“This is my mother’s home,” Lata said. “I’m sure my family is eager for my company. You go take care of our son. I’ll come in a little bit.”

Srikar took a deep breath. I could tell he was struggling for control. “Pullamma, I was happy when Lata said she was ready for Pullaiyya to meet you.” He gave Lata an angry look. “We were going to slip into your private quarters when all of a sudden she took Pullaiyya to join the
darsanam
line, and waved me over. I couldn’t avoid it without causing a scene.” He was remorseful. “I wish you could have met your son in a better manner.”

“I didn’t even get a good look at him.” I knew the yearning in my voice was giving me away. “I wish –”

“What,
hanh
?” Lata spat out, “What do you wish? To deny your son the love of his mother?”

Before I knew it, I’d reached across and given Lata a hard slap.

“How dare you!” Lata shrieked, massaging her face. She jumped to her feet, fists clenched.

“Why do you hate Pullamma so much?” Ammamma asked despairingly.

“You took my life away,” she shouted, jabbing a finger at Ammamma. “You did not let me study, you made me marry when I didn’t want to, that too, to a man I detested,” she said, enumerating on her fingers. “Pullamma has always been the favoured one. She has the money, the degree, the child. I have nothing.” Lata started to scream. “Do you hear? Nothing!”

“Tea?” a tentative voice said.

All of us whipped around.
Sarala
stood with a tray of tea and snacks. She looked flustered.

Ammamma flushed a deep red. “Leave it here, please.” She pointed at the table.

How much had
Sarala
heard? I cringed at the thought of being at the centre of speculation. After she’d left the room, I said to Lata, “You have my son and my husband. Isn’t that enough?”

“Save your godly wisdom for your devotees,” Lata snapped. “Luckily for me, Kondal Rao is still a threat to you. Otherwise Srikar would have gone running to you, tail tucked between his legs. Don’t think I don’t know.”

Srikar’s jaw tightened.

Ammamma said to Srikar, “This is just degenerating. There are still people around. Perhaps you could come back when everyone has had the chance to calm down.”

“You don’t even have the guts to blame me directly,” Lata spat out.

Srikar gave Lata a long look. “Perhaps you are right, Ammamma. I’ll be back.”

I looked as Srikar walked away. How were we ever going to resolve this situation?

“What kind of sister are you to make Pullamma pay for my mistakes?” Ammamma burst out. “You know she’s suffered so much.”

“Poor little doctor Goddess,” Lata mocked.

Chapter 50

Lata Acts Up

L
ata stayed for another two hours, looking straight ahead, not responding to Ammamma’s offer of food or water. By the time she left, the two of us were drained.

“I don’t understand Srikar,” I said. “How can he be okay with Lata using our son as a pawn?”

Ammamma sighed. “That’s the problem with honourable men, Child.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because they adhere to a certain code of conduct, they believe everyone else does, too. He probably doesn’t see Lata’s behaviour for what it is. She
dropped her head back. “I’m so sorry, Pullamma.”

“What for?”

“I’ve messed up all my granddaughters’ lives.”

“Malli
is fine.”

“No thanks to me.”

“You did the best you could, Ammamma. Come, now.” I helped her up. “Time for bed.”

She shuffled to her room. I was frightened by how old she looked.

I slumped on the swing in our private courtyard. How could things have gone so wrong?

The doorbell rang. Drowsily, I turned to the wall clock. Only 10:00 p.m. Somehow it felt a lot later. Only Kondal Rao had the bad habit of dropping in at odd hours. God! I hoped it wasn’t him. I had no energy to deal with him tonight. I hurried to the gate before the doorbell woke Ammamma up. I opened the gate to the main courtyard. “Srikar!” I said, aware I’d addressed him by name, instead of the more proper
Yemandi
.

Srikar raised his eyebrows a fraction at this departure from convention. But he said nothing. I was glad. The older I got, the less conventions seemed to matter. Not that adherence to them had done me much good.

“Is it too late?” He sounded anxious.

“No, no, of course, not.”

Srikar walked in, and behind him – my son!

“What – I mean how –” I stopped as Srikar mouthed ‘later’. I stood in shock, hugging myself as my eyes devoured my son.

“Why don’t we go in?” Srikar said.

My heart hitched. After closing the gate to the courtyard, I followed Srikar and my son in. They settled on the swing in my private courtyard.

My son! I blinked back tears and looked directly at him. Eight years I’d waited for this day. Eight lonely years.

His face was softly rounded, traces of baby fat still visible. He had Srikar’s colour – thank God for that! Long eyelashes, stubborn mouth, pug nose. A lock falling endearingly over his forehead. I trembled with emotion. I had to physically restrain myself from running to him, dragging him into my arms, never letting go.

I settled on the step of the veranda, not daring to say anything. Srikar said gently to my son, “Remember, what I told you? That your mother had to leave you behind with your aunt Lata and me because she had to go away?”

Pullaiyya leaned back in the swing and looked up the sky.

Srikar slipped an arm around him.

Pullaiyya shook it off.

“This is your mother,” Srikar said.

“I already have a mother.” His mouth was set in a stubborn line.

And I’d waited years to hear my son’s voice.

“Don’t you want to get to know her?”

“Not really.”

I felt my lungs getting crushed inside my ribcage.
God, please, what did I do to deserve this?

“You made me come here,” Pullaiyya said, not looking at Srikar. “Even when I didn’t want to. I am ready to sleep now.”

“Can I take him to your bedroom?” Srikar asked.

I nodded, my throat full from unshed tears.

Srikar came out fifteen minutes later. “How much longer can you stay?” I needed his comforting presence tonight.
 

“I’m not leaving.”

“What?” I sat up, heart beginning to pound.

“I have had it with Lata and her manipulation. She let it slip today that she was the one who led my grandfather to us.”

“Marriage to you was her payoff.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

I shrugged.

“I can’t believe Lata would behave in such a manner. I thought I knew her. I lived with her for six years, for God’s sake!” Srikar shook his head in disbelief. “You know, when you were forced into coming back as Goddess that first time? We should have just taken Ammamma and run.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were trying to do right by Lata and Ammamma.”

“To compound my mistakes, I married Lata.”

“Why did you?”

“Not that my grandfather gave me much of a choice, but I convinced myself that it would provide a loving home for our child.”

“Did it?”

Srikar shrugged, a hand covering his eyes. “It’s not like she tortures him or anything...”

“But?” I asked, throat raw.

“Sometimes, ignoring a child can be as bad.”

I tried to swallow against the surge of grief. My poor baby!

“You know what?” he asked.

“What?” I whispered.

“I’ve had it with Lata and my grandfather.” He held out his arms. I walked into them, buried my face in his shoulder and broke down. Once I started to cry, I could not stop. Srikar pulled me onto the swing with him and held me.

“What happens now?”

“You, Pullaiyya and I are going to find a way of living together openly as a family. I don’t know how, but we are.”

“How will we get away?”

“Pullamma, I’m thirty years old. I cannot continue to live in fear of my grandfather. We’ll find a way.”

I smiled up at him through my tears. “That’s wonderful!” But I still hurt. “Pullaiyya is not ready to accept me.”

“Give him time,
Pulla
,” Srikar said. “Till a month back he thought Lata was his mother. We can’t rush him.”

I nodded through my tears and held my husband, without guilt, for the first time in eight years.

><

“How dare you!”

I opened my eyes, a little disoriented. Lata stood at the door to the private courtyard, eyes blazing in the early dawn. I moved away from Srikar, feeling guilty. Then I sat up. I had done nothing wrong. Srikar and I must have fallen asleep on the swing, my head on his chest.